


consistency

by orphan_account



Series: a study in contradictions [2]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Study, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, POV Second Person, also ive never read the books?? so please have mercy, another sort of introductory story, everything i know is from musical and other fics, im bad at tagging im just trying to like. figure out the characters, to a longer one im planning, u cant really tell the aus from this alone but it applies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 07:34:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12930534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: the only constant you have ever known is pain. it seems fitting someone so opposite you would change this.





	consistency

**Author's Note:**

> i did a similar piece to this but from nadirs pov. i wanted to do one for both these boys before trying to start anything longer and more...plot driven. just to get a feel for the characters. on the plus side these plotless lil character studies were really refreshing to do

you have been alone all your life. the world does not take kindly to oddities, and people already have a tendency to judge others solely on their appearance. really, you were doomed to solitude and pain from the very day you were born. not even your own mother could find it in her heart to treat you with any ounce of love or compassion, never giving you a single moment of kindness.

you can only be thankful your father died before you were born. it is a small mercy you only dealt with the beatings of your poor, weak mother.

the entire town rejected you, as well. they all knew of poor, unhappy madeline, birthing the son of the devil himself. they all saw you as a mere boy walking with bruises shaped like fingers around your arms, slap marks on your face. they knew of you, and how you were treated, and never batted an eye. you remember hearing one day, when you had snuck out of the attic mother kept you trapped in, that it would have been better for everyone if mother had simply smothered you in your sleep. no one would’ve blamed her.

you were young, then. still naïve and hopelessly innocent. you composed music, sketched grand designs, did everything you could to earn mother’s affections. you could not fix your face, but you could do so much more and if you only made mother see that, then maybe she would be proud of you, maybe she would love you. you were young, and you were a fool. one morning, though you cannot remember what you did, you pushed her too far. your own mother told you she hated you and regretted whatever she did to force god to punish her with such a beastly child.

you ran away, and swore to never degrade yourself as you had in that house again. so your mother did not love you, you would prove that you did not need or want her love. you would never scramble for the affections of anyone again.

you were of course only lying to yourself. not even you can deny the profound effect your mother’s treatment of you had on you. deep down in your heart, hidden behind thick walls you refuse to let anyone tear down, hides the small boy you once were. the boy who still desperately yearns for approval, for praise. the boy who never aged and yet still grew up far too quickly.

the world calls you a monster. the world sees your face and recoils in disgust and horror. the world sees your mask and recoils in fear and hatred. the world sees you, but only your surface. the world sees you and decides you are unworthy of being seen.

the world calls you a monster. if you are a monster, it is only because the world has made you so.

and yet, with him, all of your defenses crumble. your walls shatter to pieces before you ever realize there are faults in their foundations. and it frightens you terribly. you appreciate the irony of the one the world feared for hideousness frightened by one so beautiful.

he calls you friend. you have never had a friend before. you do not tell him this. you do not speak of your past at all, if it can be helped. you think, somehow, he knows without you ever having breathed a word.

he calls you beautiful, and you cannot stop the bitter laugh you respond with. you tell him you will not accept false platitudes. he looks sad, and angry, but not at you. he looks angry for you, and you wonder what you did that earned you this incredible man’s friendship and compassion. you wonder how he can look at you, completely unmasked, and still see something beautiful.

he tells you he loves you, and you cannot stop the tears you respond with. no one, no one has ever loved you. and you think you love him, but you are not certain. how can you be? you were never taught what it is, to love and be loved. you feel his hands on your shoulders, then on your cheeks, tenderly brushing your tears away and that only makes you cry more. you have never experienced such gentleness, such kindness and warmth, and you cannot keep yourself from basking in it. you know it is foolish, for he will surely change his mind. he will surely wake up one day and realize he deserves so much better and he will leave. and it will break you. you know this and yet you cannot remove yourself from him.

he tells you how he wishes he could undo all the wrongs the world committed against you. he tells you you are so much more than your face, even if you cannot see it yourself. he tells you he will stay with you for as long as you will have him. you love him.

and you think, if he is to be the only constant in your life, he is well worth the wait. if he is to be your forever, he is well worth the years of pain you endured to fall into his arms.


End file.
